


Tapping With Blue Eyes

by TheMockingCrows



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Paranormal, vampirisim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-03 13:41:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1746698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMockingCrows/pseuds/TheMockingCrows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything was going great. Itch nicely scratched, attractive guy on his arm, a wild night of sex to show for it.. and a new bite mark that leaves a lot to be explained by a presumptuous vampire with a thirst for something hot blooded.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> original tumblr link: http://themockingcrows.tumblr.com/post/87924160262/tapping-with-blue-eyes

A blue eyed vampire. The stories usually said they had red eyes that flashed bright when they fed, hypnotic and alluring. Maybe that's where the confusion had begun that night, from the first time they met eyes across the room.

Dave thought he was terribly lucky having the handsome fellow approach him in the club, offering to buy him a drink, wanting to chat him up. He was about the same size and build, though he was broader at the shoulder and hip, barrel chested. A real bruiser in a fist fight if he knew how to properly throw a punch. He had dark skin and thick, wiry black hair that settled out in boyish tufts. The “I slept on it after showering and it never went away” look that some people would spend hundreds of dollars trying to attain on purpose.

His laugh was cute, Dave discovered. Musical, lilting despite the occasional snort when he really got going on something. Composed. Smooth as a fresh hundred dollar bill. Smelled good, compared to the heat and the sweat of the club itself, the gallons of cologne and perfume, wafts of Axe heavy enough to confuse a place with a middle school boys room.

John. 

John smelled like fresh rain and the open air. There seemed to be some kind of an aftershave he was using, just barely there, detectable only at close range. His hair had no gel or anything else in it, soft to the touch. Perfect for tangling his fingers in to steer his face down for a kiss, wanting to share the flavor of the cocktail he'd downed with the brunette while it was fresh.

It was a general rule of Dave's. If he wasn't interested, he wouldn't accept the drink offer. If he was interested, but unsure, he'd get a beer. Same as if he was interested but likely wouldn't make a move till another few meetings had happened. On the rare occasion his brain and his dick agreed that there was merit to someone that needed to be explored ASAP somewhere private, he asked for something hard. Liquid courage to soothe his nerves, let him get his thoughts in order instead of rushing and coming across like some thirsty motherfucker with a side of desperate who'd never managed to get any.

Desperation wasn't for the club, dancing close, mouths connected more than half the time. It was for when the lights went out in his apartment after fumbling the door open while John ground against him from behind as he struggled with the keys. Desperation was best displayed in the struggle to make it more than four feet before the stripping started, debating if the couch or the bed would be better. 

It was well at home in a satisfied, throaty moan when the brunette rumbled that the wall would do just fine, the surprise at being lifted off his feet and carried to his own room like some kind of blushing bride only to be dumped out on the bed without warning.

Dave never even had to tell him where the lube was, the condoms. Didn't have to tell him how slow or fast to move, where he liked being touched. There were no secrets, despite no words being exchanged. It was unsettling how perfect everything was, how easily they moved together. John drew a powerful orgasm from Dave using only his mouth and hands before even making use of the condoms, moving him around wherever it felt best for both of them.

How long had it been since Dave had found himself this happy to have his ankles up on someone's shoulders? Far too long, if it was anywhere as long as it had been since he'd ridden anyone like a goddamn horse into the sunset, snapping his hips and rocking every time he rose and dropped downwards along John's length. He was able to take this man to the root, and was even more thrilled than he thought strictly normal about that fact, loving the twitch of it inside him as he pushed closer and closer to orgasm. It wouldn't be the only time either of them came that night by far. Come splattered across John's stomach when Dave rode, keeping what was given for himself considering he refused to rise off him when the time came. Later, it stretched in a white hot line across the blonde's lower back.

That had been right before John bit him, of course.

A simple love bite, Dave thought. A bit of rough play. He wasn't beyond biting, and scratched hard along the stretch of John's back with his nails, pointing his toes sharply down into the bed so that they rubbed against each other. The bedding was fucked at this point anyway. Maybe they made a bleach strong enough with detergent to clean it, or maybe they would just be better off in the trash. Getting down and dirty, maybe a little more primal, seemed just what the doctor ordered.

John didn't seem to mind, pressing their bodies closer, no doubt daydreaming about a shower afterward. Maybe together, even. At least, that's what Dave thought till the bite increased past the point of pleasure and into pain. Was he piercing skin up there? On the verge of complaining, Dave opened his mouth with a low hiss, letting it out in a breathy exhaled whine when the pain suddenly left.

No pain. Not even pressure anymore, just a delicious heat and a light headed feeling that was so similar to being drunk that if he hadn't just spent the last few hours fucking a strangers brains out he would have questioned it more. Wondered why he suddenly felt completely stoned and happy.

No pain.

No worries.

No problems.

Everything had gone black.

\- - - - - - - - -

When Dave woke up, he was in bed still, but clean. The sheets and blankets were stripped off and a spare blanket covered the mattress and his bare torso. A slightly damp towel rested on the ground where his feet hung over the bottom edge. His hair had even been washed, he noticed after a perfunctory check, though he still had stubble. Good. .. Sort of good. He was absolutely spotlessly clean, how the fuck had that happened?

John.

Had to be John. 

Had to be John who was also making use of his kitchen right now, humming along with some song Dave couldn't make out. Radio? Commercial? Some kind of long lost anthem from a show he'd forgotten? There was sizzling, the smell of onions, of cooking meat, of eggs. Ginger.

When the fuck did he have ginger in his house? Or fresh onions for that matter? He'd forgotten to hit up the produce counter for far too long, and whatever science experiment had been coming to life in the plastic saver was likely no longer an onion. It was also likely angry at being held prisoner for so long, knowing his fucking luck, and was planning on escaping the fridge some lonely night. The glorious smells were not of his owning.

Had the guy gone shopping? Found a key? Let himself back in? Started cooking for what was, for all original intents and purposes, a one night stand?

Dave was... still a little fuck drunk, admittedly. He felt tired and supremely comfortable, though a bit dizzy as he stood up to rummage in a drawer for some sweatpants. Too tender for briefs today, no thanks. A loose, baggy shirt went on next and reminded him about the bite. Was it a bite? A hickey, maybe? He needed to check in a mirror.

…..

AFTER looking into the source of that excellent smell at least.

As his nose and ears had said, John was singing and cooking, flipping the pan he held firmly in his left hand with well aimed practice. He was using chopsticks to cook with, a set that seemed well worn. Were they old? His own? Or did they get sold with that well used sheen of color on them these days for that 'authentic' feeling? It took a minute for John to notice he was being watched quite intently from the doorway.

“Ah..? Oh. Oh! Sorry. Morning. Er, well. Afternoon actually now. Should I have woken you up earlier? I stepped out to get some food and thought that maybe you'd like some too. Seemed safest, you know?” he said. Even in the proper light of day, he was hypnotically gorgeous to look at. All blue eyes and softly tousled dark hair, long, lithe fingers. His fingers weren't the only long, lithe thing about him that was for damn sure.. but it was already one of Dave's favorite things.

Maybe this wasn't supposed to be a one night thing after all. Stiffly, not wanting to cause pain from some overworked muscle or another, Dave slipped into a seat at his kitchen table and continued to stare. It was like watching a chef work, nonchalant, barely paying attention. 

There was a perfectly folded omelet, chicken and vegetables with ginger and a light sauce of some kind. There were greens and onions and some kind of nut as well. Cashews? Walnuts? It smelled like ten kinds of heaven and brought the light headed feeling back in a wave as his stomach snarled at him.

“Ahh, see? Waited too long! Here, eat up before it gets worse,” he said, dishing the plates out for both of them. Dave sat dumbfounded in front of the food till John stuck a fork in his hand and curled his fingers into the proper alignment like a doll that had simply been waiting. “Do you want ketchup or anything? I don't know if you have any condiments, I just brought what I'd need to cook with. Maybe I should have checked.”

It took him a good two minutes of continuing to stare between the man and the meal before Dave tucked in like he'd never tasted food before. Why was he so hungry? He'd eaten before the bar, right? Well. Then again, a long night of vigorous sex would do that to a man. Right? ...right?

John mostly just seemed pleased that his food had passed muster, eating slowly. Savoring every bite, every flavor. Now and then he commented something else to make conversation now that he wasn't singing anymore. How the flush was coming back to Dave's cheeks, how fast he'd inhaled the fried greens and cashews, how surprisingly cute a grown man could be when he cuddled up in a blanket.

There was tinder at last, and Dave's brain finally caught on it even as he licked the salty, sweet sauce from the chicken off his lips.

“About that. The bed..”

“All the dirty bedding is off to the side, I wasn't sure how you wash yours.”

“Yeah. I was clean too.”

“Mhmm. Showered you off really thoroughly. Nothing worse than a good night ruined by a sticky, slimy, cold morning. Right?”

“..Yeah. Last night was kind of..”

“Amazing? Fantastic? You were fabulous too, of course,” he said with a conspiratorial waggle of his eyebrows. It was enough to make Dave's dick ache, focusing his eyes back down towards his steadily emptying plate for a moment, till the facade was broken by the laugh. Childlike, it had a tinkling like bells till the snort caught up. What a dweeb. “Kidding, kidding. It was great, I haven't had a night like that in a long time.”

“Yeah, me either. Got my itched scratched damn fine,” he hummed, finishing the food. The throbbing of his head had stopped now, and was replaced by the pleasant sensation he'd felt last night. Right before everything went dark.. 

“Hey, John. Lemme ask a question,” Dave said, resting his weight on his elbows as he watched John closely, keeping track of where his eyes were looking as he chewed. For now, they were directly on his face. Perfect. Paying close attention. “What was with all that biting last night?”

“... Huh?”

“Y'know. The biting?” Dave said, miming biting with his fingers and looming over the tabletop, the big bad wolf after some invisible little red riding hood. “You know. You bit me, I scratched the shit out of your back? Was like somethin' on Animal Planet. Wild.”

John continued to stare at him with furrowed brows, searching for something in his words.

“... I.”

“I admit I was kinda weirded out at first. It hurt like a mad bastard and I was gettin' close to whalin' you upside the head before it started to feel -fantastic-. Like.. Fuck, man I don't even remember what happened afterward.” He grinned, trying to look disarming. “Like. If you hadn't stuck around and suddenly pulled an Iron Chef Nice Ass on me this mornin' I'd be wondering if you stuck me with something aside from your dick.”

Again, John just continued to stare, the color steadily draining from his face.

“I.. I... But. Didn't you know already?” he asked, voice actually breaking. The smile was suddenly fading from Dave's face. Know what? Did he manage to catch something deadly the one fuckin' time he decided to go bareback after a few rounds? What the fuck didn't he know?

“Know what, John. Might wanna talk fast, man, kinda makin' me assume the worst.”

“... Don't you know what I am?” John finally said loudly, hands flatly slapping the tabletop. “I thought you knew! I thought you were... you were volunteering!”

“Yo, yo, back up a second. Volunteering for -what-? I don't donate my time unless someone's literally on fire, and that's usually just to piss it out.” This was starting to leave a bad taste in his mouth. Pity, considering how good the food was. No. No, it tasted like copper, the same faint metallic taste he'd gotten whenever he got dizzy.

“Damn it, my dad warned me about this,” John moaned, all but ignoring his previous bed mate to lay dramatically across the table. He was a grown man pitching the fit of a tweenager. All that was missing was the kick of the legs and a dumb t-shirt from some band nobody had heard of, or something on discount from Hot Topic that everyone was already sick of looking at. “He warned me about being careful! To not just pick a tap at random!”

“What in the actual flaming fuck is a 'tap'? Did your dad legit give you one night stand advice?” Dave asked, amazed. What next, what percent to tip a hooker? How many bills was appropriate for a stripper before small bills got embarrassing?

“No!” he wailed. Ah, there was the leg kicking, twice as dumb looking at the smaller table. Dave wasn't sure if he should remain anxious, annoyed, or comfort the man who was having a bit of a breakdown over brunch.

“Then what, man, clear this up for me. We're obviously not on the same level and trust me: I'm dyin' to know what the fuck has got your nipples in a frenzy.”

“My WHAT.”

“Calm your tits. Just. Grab hold of the raisinettes and breathe. Talk to me. What is a 'tap'.”

John looked to be on the verge of tears, frustrated at himself to sickness as he gave a pained moan.

“Food source. Tap is a food source.”

“Food source.”

“Yes.”

“.... Food source?”

“S'why you were dizzy,” he hiccupped, nose running. Dave finally got embarrassed enough that he got the dishrag from near the sink and handed it over for John to blow his nose on. “I should've guessed when you passed out that you weren't,” he muttered. “Taps know already.. They eat better'n you do.”

“Excuse the fuck outta you, I eat just fine.”

“Not enough iron, it tasted like you lived off junk and occasionally tried to eat right,” John groaned into the rag. “Still sweet.. Still perfect.. But definitely a normal guy.”

“Okay, so. Food source for what.” At John's blank look, glasses steamed over the rags top edges, Dave raised his hands slightly in defense. “Hey, hey. Can't blame the confusion here, John. Sorry, but you're talking like a fuckin' vampire and the only noticeable teeth you've got all all bucky up front. S'cute, but not really screamin' blood sucker.”

“Leaving them hanging out all the time would be obscene,” he muttered, calming down and cleaning himself up. He removed his glasses, giving Dave more uninterrupted glances at those blue eyes. He wanted to just keep looking at them forever, and everything would be fine.. “Besides. They're not physical all the time.. It's hard to explain. When someone's found a tap, they stick with them and keep them healthy and happy and everything works out well enough.”

“....So, what, your dad has one? Your mom or somethin'?”

He shook his head.

“No.. He's got one at work I think. Someone who works with him. Might have been my mother before that. I'm not entirely sure.”

Dave pondered slightly, mulling things over. This was kind of a shot out of left field, but when he was weighing the pros to the cons..

“So. What made you think I was in the know about the whole vamp thing?”

“You came right to me.. A good tap just kind of has an instinct apparently. They can sense when we're near, and if there's no commitment prior they can go for it.”

“And I went hook, line, and sinker.”

“If sinker is another term for mind blowing sex, then yeah.”

That was right. The biggest thing on Dave's mind was how well his itch had been scratched. How satisfied and comfortable he was waking up. So, too, he'd felt safe. A total stranger had bathed him, left his home and returned with food to cook a fantastic meal for him.. and there was no cold breath of panic or rage that there should have been.

This entire situation was feeling strangely domestic. Normal. He could make a habit of this.

“So. Say this whole tap thing was actually a thing,” he ventured, moving to the counter again to hop up onto an empty portion of it, watching John at the table quietly as he calmed back to normal and regained some sense of composure. “How often are we talkin' here. Nightly fill up like a gas tank? Weekly? Monthly? Would it make me weak or sick?”

John looked appalled at the very idea and shook his head vehemently before putting his glasses back on.

“Of course not! It'd be every now and then. If willing.. I can go without if needs be, it just makes me feel sick. If I had a tap I'd treat them with the same respect anyone would in a normal relationship.”

“What, like. Dating? Vamps and taps date?”

“Well.. Why wouldn't they?” he asked, slowly, as if speaking to a very stupid child. At least he wasn't talking louder or enunciating everything to excess. It was already kind of embarrassing. “It's a really intimate thing. Usually they date because.. well.. Aside from most of the care coming up to the same as a normal relationship, it makes it functionally easier and safer for everyone. And..”

“And?”

John's face reddened slightly. He looked so much less suave without the flashing of multicolored lights, without the straining fabric of his pants cutting off supply of blood to judgment.

“It tastes better during or after sex,” he muttered. 

“...Hm.”

There was silence then, awkward. John didn't know what to do with the soiled dish rag for now, so he sat it aside and stared at it. Stared at the cabinets. Furtively, he finally looked to Dave.

“You're not kicking me out yet.”

“Should I be?”

“Well.. I... I kinda sprang this on you suddenly, I assumed..”

“And to assume makes an ass outta 'u' and 'me', I know. But I'm not kickin' you out. Not yet.. Let's talk a bit more about this.”

John shifted slightly in his seat before, finally lured by Dave's pointed looks, rose and walked over to the counter where he was settled. He pressed close, and after the blonde shifted his knees apart to make more room, loomed flat against his front. Even after such a long night, being so close just felt.. right. Expected. Comforting. There was no hardness to press against, but the slight give of flesh was perfect enough.

“These bites. Do I get anything outta them? Aside from, like, five star food and apparently a protective boyfriend?”

“If you're asking if you'll turn to, it doesn't work that way. I'm not even entirely sure how that works. I never asked Dad and he never told me.”

Fair enough. Dave wasn't interested in being a leech personally. He shuffled his feet, knees squeezing at hips that were already familiar. Just the right size for him to hold on to. Both of Dave's hands raised to wrap up around John's middle, feeling at his backbone.

“How long will it last?”

“Long as you want it to.. If you ever want to stop, I'd-”

“Move on and find another tap?”

“... Depends.”

Dave quirked a brow, tipping his head back the further John leaned forwards and down. Their lips met in the middle, warm and soft, still tasting of breakfast.

“Depends on what..?”

“Depends on if you chase me off or not. Food isn't everything.”

“Will there be more nights like last night?” Dave asked, straining upwards a little more to try for another kiss, moaning softly when he was rewarded. This kiss had another tone to it: the same primal hunger as the night before when their bodies were spent.

“Tons and tons and tons.”

John was already scooping his hands beneath Dave's thighs to lift him upwards, wanting to take him into the bathroom, have a hot bath together that they'd actually both remember by the time Dave sighed at him.

“I don't think I'll be chasin' you off any time soon. … Unless you turn into a fuckin' bat or something, because seriously fuck that noise. Those things are cute as shit, but if they're flying at ya in an enclosed space it's just got Fuzzy Projectile of Death written all over it, none of that cute ass brushie brushie nonsens-”

Another kiss cut off his rant as John adjusted his grip higher, kneading at Dave's buttocks firmly as he rested his weight against his own front as a counter balance, trying to edge back towards the bathroom with him.

“.... Point made. Carry on, then.”


	2. Unseen Gaze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adjusting to being a tap wasn’t that hard. Really, the bonuses were pretty sweet. Great food, great sex, new boyfriend eager to make sure Dave felt spoiled rotten in exchange for sharing his blood solely with John. Few months in, however, Dave really wishes he’d spent less time making goo-goo eyes and more time brushing up on how many tangled webs the vampire was involved in, both family and otherwise.
> 
> This wasn’t what he envisioned at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to stribird on tumblr for poking me into motion and asking me to get this world expanded all the way back during JohnDave week (and for making such cute art of the existing chapter at the same time). I’m sorry it took so long.
> 
> tumblr mirror: http://themockingcrows.tumblr.com/post/164535756697/tapping-with-blue-eyes-ch-2-unseen-gaze

     It was hard to think that just a few months ago, Dave had thought vampires were just in video games and creepy movie castles, or boxes of cereal that tasted like early diabetes mixed with Saturday morning cartoon marathons. They were all fictional, the hiss and scare, the flying bats, the unholy combination of Hot Topic and Party City's Halloween section. He'd always associated them with silly things, or with overly sweet candy corn.

     Now he associated them with fantastic food, warm hands holding him, loud club music and mind blowing sex among other things.

     Like being prone to fainting, for instance. That was definitely a new thing Dave associated with vampires, and he wondered why he never considered it before.

     “Dave, I told you we should have waited longer, now look at you!” John fussed, cold soda bottle bleeding perspiration into the collar of Dave's shirt from where he had it pressed against the back of his neck. It took effort not to drop his gaze lower to where the faintest edge of a fresh bruise was resting against his boyfriend's nape, and even more effort not to press his lips right where they'd been earlier that morning. Which was the literal cause of all this. “We should have waited till afternoon, or just. Waited till it was time to visit Dad and then gone, given you some more time.”

     After the first few weeks of sorting out their own balance and rhythm, Dave was an enthusiastic tap sorting out the schedule and figuring out how much he could comfortably give at any time, and John was accepting the burden that came with finally having a constant supply of blood on hand. It made him powerful, made him alert, made him more protective.. and it all had to be managed like he was just learning his powers for the first time as a child. His father had been right about never really stopping the learning, and about his newly appreciated appetite being a strain on him in unimaginable ways. The benefits outweighed the negatives but.. still.

     The biggest issue they were facing so far was that protective instinct. John had to work hard at it to keep from slipping and becoming overbearing, smothering his tap, and angering his boyfriend. It felt right, it felt _good_ but it wasn't the right thing to do. Dave needed as much freedom and space as anyone else did, and together they were finding ways to cope with it. Part of the reason for John taking Dave to meet his father today was to also see about getting some more direct advice on what to do. Part of him was wondering if this was really as normal as he hoped, or if something in Dave was just incredibly potent. John was fairly sure he was able to lift fridges with one hand like his father without breaking a sweat now, and hoped to get some tips on how to keep that force strictly to the fridges and not at all towards accidentally hurting Dave.

     Why taps didn't get their own power up, he'd never know. ..Maybe they just got more delicious after becoming bonded with someone, and had the benefits of protection and food? Still felt unfair, but as far as humans went, it was probably well enough. Didn't need humans getting too deeply in the center of those unseen.

     “I'm fine, John, really,” Dave said with a grunt, eyes closing as he adjusted to the cold feeling on his skin. How fucking embarrassing. One moment they'd been walking along and heading down a few steps to the street, and the next his legs turned to jelly and the ground had rushed up to meet him. He could mentally trace each droplet of condensation as it traced beneath his shirt and out of view, as well as imagining the spreading cloud of water on the fabric. It was the most solid thing he could focus on while waiting for the ground to stop swaying beneath him. “I got dizzy. No big. I didn't crack my head open or anything, right?”

     John eyed him, not sure if he was honestly questioning or if he was making a joke.

     “..You didn't. But you did go down like a quarter ton of bricks,” he said. “We shouldn't have come out so early, last night was intense. Maybe we should have just stayed home. Do you want to go home?” John worried, keeping the bottle in place. Dave was subtly swaying, and it was keeping him on edge, ready to dip down and pick him up if it kept up.

     “Ease up, really, it's fine,” Dave repeated. He snorted softly when the anxious fussing didn't stop immediately, and reached up to grasp at the cold drink, wanting to pry it from John's hand so he would have to reset his focus and listen clearly. “Did too much too fast, I'll go slower now. Just like last time, right? I was fine last time too. Just did a bit too much too fast.”

     “You need to rest..”

     “I just did rest in fast forward. On the ground,” Dave said, lips curling into a teasing smirk. “No, but seriously, I feel a ton better already and if I go slow I'll be fine,” he promised, satisfied that the ground no longer was moving even with his eyes shut tight.

     John didn't look convinced. He busied his empty hands with pushing Dave's hair gently back out of his eyes and hooking it behind his ears and the stems of his shades, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. When Dave glanced up he could see the tip of a fang pressing a little too hard against the thin flesh, drawing up a bead of bright blood the longer it stayed there.

     He was trying. He was trying so hard it made Dave's chest ache. A few weeks ago, John would have just picked him up and toted him off towards home, or towards a hospital, ignored protests in the midst of his worry. That instinct to ensure Dave was alright, that Dave was well, that he hadn't damaged his boyfriend at all, was overwhelming. John's eyes were bright but visibly straining to sit still, muscles in his arms trying to twitch with the urge to do more.

     The grab and run didn't happen. Somehow, the vampire was keeping the instinct at bay. They'd feel proud about it later.

     “..Alright. Would you feel better if you helped make sure I'm fine?” Dave guessed, relaxing when he saw John nod enthusiastically, blue eyes wide and eager as a puppy. “Let's go get something to eat, then. That helps. The soda won't be much more than a crutch,” he said, remembering what he'd learned since his first few faints. Sugar and caffeine helped him, but never for long when he crashed from a feeding. Dave was fairly sure he'd need to give some serious thought to John's comment about keeping snacks and supplements on hand in the future, but at least for now he was piecing together what worked best on his own.

     “What do you feel like? Something solid, light? Snacks? Want some coffee? I could just take us back to your place and make something if we got ingredients, it'd be no proble-” John rambled till a finger pressed to his lips, shooshing his rambling. John blinked briefly, then sighed. “..I was doing it again, huh.”

     “A bit, yeah. C'mon, let's just go get something quick and light, we've got the whole morning left to burn. Maybe a sandwich or something from the convenience store, even.”

     “Not the hot dogs, or the burritos, or anything else on a roller though,” John said as he bent a bit further to scoop Dave upright and dust him off once he caught his weight on his own two feet. Dave curled his fingers into fists and fought hard to avoid wavering afterward, honest to god dizzy and not wanting a repeat of worry sounds filling his ears. There wasn't much budging him on the junk food stance, not when moments like these happened, but it was hardly an iron will to work against.

     “Aw, but John, how else will I get to experience the fiery burn of food poisoning when my hearty appetite takes me straight out of a flavor explosion as my godly immune system falters,” Dave crooned. “No, seriously, it'd be fine, I've eaten worse. You've seen this with your own two eyes.”

     “Yes and I really don't understand it still,” John sighed. “You basically have your own chef at your beck and call, and yet you keep veering to that stuff every chance you get. I'm not even sure it's really _food_.”

     Dave tugged at John's arm to get him to start moving, satisfied the sick feeling was already leaving his head the longer he moved. He cracked the soda open, dodged a spurt of foam that slipped over the edge of the plastic cap he slammed back into place a second too late, and slurped the sugary liquid from the side as it ran down over his fingertips. He let John take the lead this time, glad when the vampire only steered enough so they could dodge the street that would take them near a 7-11 and the greasy wonderland within. Instead, they wandered along to a cleaner, smaller family owned mart that promised fresh varieties of juices and light foods. It was a little more expensive, but it seemed like a the increase in quality was worth it.

     John was just glad they didn't sell gas out front, the petrol fumes usually indicating not-that-fresh food and nothing he'd want to taste personally later on if given the choice. Less fresh food made for some fairly gross tasting blood, and Dave himself wasn't some amazing alchemical property that made garbage taste any less like garbage coated in candy.

     “Ooh, they got a live juicer in here, it's not just all pre-bottled,” Dave said, sounding a bit impressed. He looked even more enthusiastic the second he noticed mango and pineapple among the stacked fruit options, and veered a hard right towards the counter when at least three varieties of ripe apples came into view.

     Hell yes.

     Hell to the _fuck yes_.

     “Hey, pick one for me too? I'm gonna check what else is here,” John said, heading back to check out the coolers and shelves.

     Aside from the usual snack foods, there seemed to be different options for local brands. Among the candy bars were some chunkier treats with labels from downtown, and chip bags bore marks from all around the state. The fresher foods were most appealing to him however, and he stared at the cooler to find something simple. ..A sandwich. That'd work, right? By the time he'd picked something out and made his way back to Dave, the blonde was juggling two tall, cold glasses of fresh juice and clutching a sticky bottle of soda beneath his armpit.

     “What'd you grab for me?” Dave asked, pausing his slurping to eyeing the wrapped package.

     “Nothing wild. Roast beef, cheese, veggies,” John shrugged. “What about you?”

     “Strawberry, mango, banana,” Dave said. “Not red so much as, like. Murky weird orange brown yellow-ish? But it should taste good. They didn't have cherries or I'd have tried making it even brighter.”

     “You're never gonna drop that red association with me, huh,” John said, rolling his eyes. A good choice, but he could now confirm that between Dave's color preferences and the vampire gags, red would be outweighing blue in his vicinity forevermore. John eyed Dave's hips as he wandered ahead to the cashier to set the cups down for now, following the curve of his ass till he had to look upward.

     Right. Subtle. Good going, John.

     “Nope, not at all,” Dave snorted, reaching into his pocket to fish out his wallet, paying for the juices. John paid for the sandwich and slipped it into Dave's hands as he snagged the sticky soda and his own juice, setting the former into a small bag to avoid touching it very much after getting his change.

     They made their way outside and around another block before finding a bench to settle on, John leaning back and slouching, while Dave crossed a leg over his opposite knee and unwrapped the sandwich, grinning at the contents.

     “Whoa, nice one. Maybe we'll have to go back there sometime, they seemed to have a lot of stuff,” Dave said. “Not too far out either. Could be a thing when we want a walk?”

     “Or when we're coming back from the bar, if they're open that late.”

     “I didn't see any gas pumps, I doubt it,” Dave said as he ripped into the bread in a large bite, chewing quietly for a moment before holding it up to John in offer with a coy grin. “Won't taste nearly as good as me, but here: want a bite?”

     Though John smirked at him, he got a bit of headway back by grasping the skinny wrist he loved to tease with his fangs, pulling his arm forward to bring the sandwich in range of his mouth to take a large bite as well. He hummed, surprised at the flavor, only to have Dave nod to the side and start to mention something about what he thinks might be some kind of secret sauce or dressing on this thing. John heard the first half of the chatter, but slowly stopped listening as he felt the first clench in his stomach.

     No.. No, not his stomach. His chest. Right over John's heart was the distinct sensation of something squeezing, stealing his breath away, pouring icy water down his spine till his skin twitched uncomfortably.

     Panic.

     Something was wrong. Very, very wrong and he couldn't place it. Where had he ever felt this before? John racked his brain, trying to think of something specific, and was coming up blank. He wasn't old enough or strong enough yet to sense things well as his dad, but fuck why was this bothering him so badly? There was a reason to be upset, a reason for this panic, and he couldn't imagine what it could be for certain. Lifting his head, John began to look around while Dave continued to talk, pausing once in a while when the need to breathe caught up to him or the allure of taking another bite grew too distracting.

     ..Nothing.

     He couldn't see a single thing out of place, and if only for that, everything became suspicious. Old woman jogging? Suspicious. Group of teenagers? They're teens, of course they're suspicious for one reason or another. Man with a baby carriage? Double suspicious, what if it was the baby that was feeling like a threat? John lowered his hand and grasped at Dave's shoulders, pulling him gently closer to hug tight.

     “So anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to hit up the movies after all. There's some good shit pla- John? ..Dude. John. You alright? Look like you saw a ghost,” Dave said, letting himself be tugged close. He blinked a few times, then peered up over his shades, curiosity glinting. “...DID you? That a thing too? I mean, I didn't think _you_ were real, is there other shit that's real? Is the tooth fairy gonna shank me with a toothbrush sharpened into a punji stick for not flossin' enough? Werewolves gonna come and treat me like a fire hydrant? Bigfoot actually a thing? Do we need to guard the snacks better from his hairy ass outdoors?”

     “Dave.”

     “What?”

     “ _Dave_.”

     “ _What_.”

     “I need you.. to be.. very quiet. Just for a second. Okay?” John said, still on high alert as the feeling intensified. Which direction? Where was it coming from? The longer he couldn't locate the source, the more he was alarmed at just how open the space they were sitting was, how exposed, and couldn't bother fighting his instincts any longer. Dropping his juice he stood up and dragged Dave with him, ignoring the sudden loud complaints about the splash of red juice getting all over (RUINING, JOHN, _ **RUINING**_!) his shoes.

     Needed to run. Needed to run, find somewhere with a nice solid door, and needed to get ready to fight. ..Fuck, no, couldn't fight with his tap right there, too high a risk. Nor could he risk leading whatever was leering at them out of sight to either of their homes. Dave was starting to squirm and struggle in his arms, complaints growing louder as the remnants of the sandwich and Dave's juice fell and splashed all over his shirt this time, traces trailing down to John's arms like frigid ice. He'd deal with it later. Needed to run.

     Car. They could go to the car, and go to his dad's place early, they'd be safe there. It was fine if dangerous things knew where his father lived, they wouldn't cross a vampire as well established as his father, whatever it was. Fledglings and young, newly bonded vampires like himself were easy prey in the eyes of some beasts, but with backup they wouldn't be sitting ducks.

     His time so far with Dave had been like a daydream, everything sunny.. this wasn't how John wanted to introduce the risks he'd warned Dave about in the flesh.

     “John will you put me the fuck DOWN?! I'm drenched, this is gross as fuck, I'm gonna get ants on my dick at this rate. You want that? Insects suddenly having front door open access invited to my tasty dick? Because I sure as fuck don't want that,” Dave said, continuing to struggle, and continuing to be locked in place by an iron grip that he himself had managed to make even stronger over the last few weeks by feeding his boyfriend. The speed was increasing as well, whatever had John spooked was doing a fabulous job at making him push the limits of just how fast he could flee an area. Dave couldn't even make out the faces of the people they were sprinting past, and wondered vaguely if they looked like a blur to them.

     Fuck.

     “Man, seriously, put me the fuck DOWN, John, I will elbow your ass and you fuckin' know it. Wanna try me?” Dave warned, preparing to pull his arm back as a threat. “Come on, you've been doing great, just. Slow the fuck down and tell me what's happenin' at least!”

     “Watched. Bad. Can't go home, going to Dad,” John said hurriedly, zipping around another street corner. Dave could see sweat beading on John's brow, and could finally see the terror in his eyes. Was it real? Was this a false alarm? ..There was no real way to verify that himself, far as Dave knew, but it was worth questioning. He grunted when the running suddenly stopped as if John had reached a dime, considered its shiny surface, and brought every cell in his body to a screeching halt directly on top of FDR's smug looking head.

     They'd reached the car, and apparently it was indeed enough of an emergency in John's eyes that he didn't so much as put something down for Dave to sit on, instead choosing to deposit his sticky, juice soaked body directly onto his nice fabric seats. John waited till Dave's legs were in place before slamming the door shut and going to his own side, not even waiting for seat belts to get on before he was cranking the engine and hurriedly backing up, turning enough to veer out of the lot.

     While John was so busy looking forward, Dave was busy looking back. He wasn't sure what he was really looking for, but it seemed important to at least try. It would also be good to stop focusing on how close they were to a four car pileup or a roll over by not looking at just how close John was cutting everything with his erratic movements. What was suspicious or not to a vampire? Based on the foods John could eat safely, he figured there were no rogue threats of garlic bread or Italian food trucks in their future.

     It was only when John was done jockeying around to get to the ramp that would lead to the desired highway that Dave was fairly sure he'd caught sight of something as out of place as they were being on their own. Two figures on foot, fairly tall, one with dark hair and one with light were standing in the middle of the road a few cars back, faces turned towards the back of their car. A truck driver laid on his horn briefly, trying to force them to get out of the way, and right before Dave's eyes, they vanished.

     The figures did not step aside, or run, or jump. One moment they were there, green and orange eyes too bright in their faces, and the next they were not, blinking out of position and for all Dave knew, out of existence entirely. Had he been seeing things...? No. No, the horn had honked, someone else saw the people too.

     ..Were they even people, though?

     “Dave, buckle up. I'm sorry I didn't give you time before, but we should be fine on the highway, so might as well avoid even more chances for tickets,” John said. His voice was still tense, but there was an air of apology in his tone, of the usual playful fussing trying to come back. He plugged the metal clip into the buckle of his own seat belt and adjusted how the band rested on his chest and shoulder instead of letting it lurk up by his throat uncomfortably, then reached his sticky hand into his pocket to pull out his phone. Now that the coast was clear enough to be considered 'safe' again, John was left to deal with the side effects of his earlier panic, his bursts of using his still-being-adjusted-to power. His hand shook badly enough that if he were drinking something, Dave would have been reaching for a towel to mop up the wildly flying liquids, yet he was keeping an iron grip on the steering wheel and staying well within the speed limit.

     “Oh. ..Uh. Yeah. Yeah, you're right,” Dave said, breaking his eyes away to look down, plugging his own seat belt into place. The fabric of the seat was already turning a rainbow of colors beneath and beside him, and he could feel his toes squishing in his shoes. He hoped there was spare clothes at John's father's place, and that he wouldn't mind the first important meeting being cut awkwardly short so he could run off and shower. A quick hello sir, goodbye sir, may I get naked upstairs and have some of your clothes sir, no big deal.

     Awkward.

     “..Dad? Hey! I'm sorry it's pretty early compared to what we were planning for, but uh. Something.. something kind of came up, and I'm bringing Dave to the house. Will you be home, or do I need to just use the key?” John asked, trying to sound calm, cool and collected. Apparently it failed, because John winced a moment later. “No, we're fine. Promise, I just felt something was really off and kind of made a big mess while leaving. ..No. I don't know what, or who. Why? Someone in town I should know about?”

     Dave held his breath as he listened in, trying to make out words that were leaking out of the speaker and around the edge of John's ear. He'd heard the voice of James before, and had spoken loosely once or twice when John had the phone on speaker, so he knew the deep, steady tones to listen for. ..Wasn't clear enough though, and Dave sighed as he slouched further, debating putting his sticky shoes up on the dashboard. Why not, everything was already gross, why not just go whole hog while he was at it?

     John paled and went very quiet, mouth shut, lips thin with stress. He nodded, though obviously his father had no way of knowing it, and eventually seemed to remember that himself when he began to make soft 'uh huh' noises to show he was listening.

     “It's. ..You're sure it might be?” he asked, letting out a soft laugh. “You're not messing with me, right? Not a prank? Because if this is a prank, you're definitely ahead of me agai- Oh.”

     Not a prank, then.

     “..Right. I'll lock up once we get there,” John said, placing his phone so he could press it up with his shoulder as he changed lanes and adjusted his speed a bit. “No, I don't want to order in, not if they're potentially in town. Last thing I need to have happen it anyone creeping on your house. ..Nnn... I don't know, Dad, there's schedules to keep up and I'm pretty sure we both have shifts tomorrow.”

     “Day after,” Dave supplied, brows lifted at all the unanswered questions that, judging from the look on John's face, he wasn't that interested in discussing right now.

     “Okay, so, SOON-ish we have shifts, we can't go staying a long time, creeps in town or not. I'm pretty sure just coming to your house at all might make them back off. ..Dave? No, no, don't worry, Dave will be fine, you already know that,” John said, sounding self assured. It melted away and he sounded every bit as young as he looked when, in the next breath, he whined out a loud “Daaaaaaaad, really, I know! I'm already bringing Dave along, and we're both safe, that's a good first step. I did a good thing,” he insisted. “..Alright, alright, we'll talk later. You're right.”

     With a quiet, barely there 'love you, Dad', John hung up and dropped his phone into the empty cup holder. He sighed and slouched as well, eyes on the road but mind obviously miles away. It took a good five miles worth of silence before he jerked straighter and looked to Dave.

     “Ah! Fuck, do you want the radio on? I can put the radio on. What're you in the mood for? I don't have channels saved, but I thi-”

     “Oh, hey, was wondering when you'd notice me! My name is Mud, Mud Strider, pleased to meet you,” Dave said in a singsong voice, annoyed. Talking like he wasn't there, talking like he was a fucking child, talking over his fucking head: all things he couldn't stand and wouldn't take sitting down. The way John wilted again showed his frustration had hit home well enough. Putting the metaphorical claws away, Dave sighed. “..Alright, so. Mind telling me what the fuck literally all of this is about? Who's in town? Why'd you freak and murder my outfit back there, I don't know if I can save this, that shit stains.”

     “Look, I'm sorry, but you wouldn't understa-”

     “Don't fuckin' pull that YA fiction bullshit on me and act shocked when it doesn't work, John Egbert, I'm not a kid. Spill. All of it. I'm involved in this enough to apparently be at risk of whatever the fuck got you worked into a rich creamy lather back there, so you might as well give me the deets and get me on the same page as you.”

     “..Right,” John sighed. He'd looked close to arguing, stubborn to a fault, but Dave had a big point. Instinct needed to settle down, and he needed to use his head. Dave might be his tap, but he wasn't just food. Wasn't a resource with no sense of his own place in his surroundings. “There's a lot going on, potentially. Or at least a lot to explain. ..Can I ask for some patience till later, though? I can avoid getting arrested for driving like an idiot, you can shower and change, we can both have something to eat and then talk with my dad. He might be able to explain even better than me.”

     Dave blinked, and narrowed his eyes a bit, lips turning down.

     “Hey, no, I'm not stalling Dave,” John said, guessing the look. “I'm not trying to be vague. Dad was a bit vague too, I think because he knew I was driving and talking, but that just means he'll be more thorough when we're all settled down in one place. Bonus: it's safe there! So I'll be plenty relaxed too. ..Think you can handle that? Just a little longer? I've got questions for him too, but I want to know for sure what he already knows instead of just.. y'know. Guessing.”

     “You're totally stalling. Who are 'they',” Dave said. “The people who might be in town that you mentioned.”

     “I don't know if it's them or no-”

     “'Them'. I don't care if you know they're in town or not, man, just. Who is 'they' and 'them'. Gimme some adjectives, man, something to chew on till I can weasel stuff outta your dad. GOOD adjectives,” Dave clarified. “Gimme somethin' to run with!”

     “A bunch of assholes, potentially, that work?” John said, rolling his eyes.

     “Assholes. What, like. They human at least, orrrr....?”

     “No. No, they're not. I don't think they keep humans around for sure.”

     “...Are they like you?” Dave asked.

     “I wish. ..At least one of them is like me, if it's the one I think might be around. But not like me at all, because as I said: they're assholes,” John insisted.

     “Any of 'them' got a name? How many we talkin' here.”

     “Several different people. I'm not giving any names till I know for sure,” John insisted. “Last thing I need is to talk about Jake and have him sudden- _**ugh**_ ,” he said, stalling as he realized what he'd let slip. “Just. Alright look, there's a name, don't go saying it much. Treat it like bad luck.”

     Jake, huh. Alright.

     “..What kinda species, then, if only one or so are like you, potentially?”

     “Were,” John said, nose wrinkling. “Most were are fine, they keep to themselves or just carry on, but. ..Some are just. ..Eugh. Older people get, or longer the family lines are, the more frustrating they are to deal with.”

     “So. Vampires, were..wolves?” Dave guessed to himself. “Anything else? This is a Halloween grab bag double feature at this point, John.”

     John nodded, then shook his head right afterwards.

     “Yep. And that's it, that's the end of the line, I'm not spilling any more beans till we can find out if I'm even spilling the right ones! I could be spilling pineapples for all I know!” he insisted.

     “Fine, fine, damn. How would your Dad know more than you about a few random people being in town? Especially if you freaked out this far away from him?” Dave finally asked. There was at least a few things to focus on and turn over in his mind now, but the loose strings were bugging him more than ever. He knew when he agreed to be John's tap, agreed to date him, that he'd wind up in some crazy shit potentially. Suddenly arriving dick deep in said crazy shit was going to take some definite effort to coast along with.

     “The entire city is chock full of other beings, Dave, remember? All kinds of species, doing their own thing and living life. When something disruptive happens, people notice and talk about it. Dad's a lot more ear to the ground than me about things, he's older, has more contacts. I only recently bonded with you, there's a _lot_ of catching up to do. ..And if it _**is**_ English, then he'd probably have tried to creep on Dad at least once or twice since rolling into town. He doesn't alert me every time someone passes through, but generally there's not a ton of trouble being caused either. Not much need to mention anything. ..Er. Well. I mean NOW there is, with you around, but since this is the first time I've had one, he pro-”

     “Creepin' on your old man? Why the fuck would anyone do that?” Dave asked. “Isn't he like. Desk job, 9-5, nose to the grindstone of paperwork boring office work dude?”

     “It's apparently rude to not at least try to visit your relations,” John sighed. “Even if your relations want nothing to do with you and have been trying to get you off their collective backs for decades. ..If he's in town, he definitely would have been in range enough for Dad to pick up on personally if not just causing some kind of trouble to be obnoxious.” He glanced over, then leaned forward to switch the radio on. A few flips of the dial and he'd found a station playing things from the 90's and 2000's, and turned it down low to fill in the monotonous sound of wheels on highway. “And if that's what was creeping on us, it'd make sense why I couldn't spot him. Especially if his creepy friend's with him.”

     Dave gave John a dry look, then stared out the window instead. Great, MORE questions. None of this was making any god damned sense, did he need to take notes? Was there going to be a test on this? "So You Fucked A Vampire: Here's His Tangled Backstory And Side Quests!".

     “Y'know, I know I asked for the details, and I understand why you're not explaining more, but goddamn that's kind of annoying. How long till we get there? And how long till your dad turns up, too?”

     “Another twenty minutes till we get there, and probably a few hours till Dad. ..I'll try to explain more when we're there while we wait, try to make more sense,” John promised. “When I'm not driving anymore, when I don't have to worry about needing to run suddenly with you _again._ You're right. This is all things you need to know, if you're going to continue being my tap. I need to be more clear, but right now I'm just really, really rattled.”

     Dave wanted to be frustrated still, wanted to be annoyed. A lot of things had just happened at once, none of which he got any say in, but John sounded really sincere right now. After weighing his options, Dave finally nodded.

     “Alright. Sounds good.”

     Relieved, John grinned the brightest he had since they woke up coiled together that morning and nodded, already trying to run over what to say in his mind. There was so much to unpack there.. How do you even begin to compress hundreds of years of familial history into something bite sized for someone completely unfamiliar with everyone and almost everything involved?

     He stole a sideways glance Dave's direction, took in the stained shirt and the calmer, albeit tired looking features he could make out while the blonde's face was turned half away, and let his grin relax into something softer.

     ..He'd find a way.

 


End file.
